


As If

by persephone_stone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_stone/pseuds/persephone_stone
Summary: Narcissa Black throws a party and pines after a boy.Muggle AU.Rated T for language.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/James Potter
Comments: 32
Kudos: 55
Collections: Rare Pairs RHM Read for LoveFest, Talk Isn't Cheap Fest





	As If

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Talk_Isnt_Cheap](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Talk_Isnt_Cheap) collection. 



> I had so much fun with this prompt! Nothing makes me more nostalgic than a mid-90's house party and crushing on a boy.
> 
> Massive thanks to [granger_danger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/granger_danger/pseuds/granger_danger) for her solid beta work.
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Character A: "I nominate the idiot to go first."
> 
> Character B: “Oi!”
> 
> Character A: “I don’t make the rules, [name].”

Narcissa stood in front of her bathroom mirror, knowing it was ironic for a girl named _Narcissa_ to be checking out her own reflection, but not caring. She wanted to look her best tonight. 

Her parents were out of town, and she was throwing a party. Her sister Andromeda had loaned her a dress that made her feel like Cher from Clueless, her sister Bellatrix had bought a bunch of cheap beer, and _she_ had invited everyone from Hogwarts High Class of 1997.

Was it an excuse for a bunch of 17-year-old almost-seniors to get drunk and dry-hump each other? 

Sure. 

But the idea had also made Narcissa smile after their father had made her cry— _again_ —so her sisters, shoving down their embarrassment at being the specific type of loser college kids who help throw a high school party, had loaded their parents’ CD player with their favorite music and gotten on with it.

The guests started to trickle in slowly as the sun set, coming through the back gate to hang out in her enormous backyard, dipping their feet in the pool and lounging on her mom’s patio furniture. 

Her on-again, currently-off-again boyfriend Lucius Malfoy showed up wearing his letterman jacket, because he apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that it was _July_ in _California_ , and therefore a hundred and ten degrees outside. He sauntered over to her, his slicked-back blonde hair gleaming underneath the backyard’s string lights.

“Hey, hottie,” he growled. She smiled up at him, but silently breathed a sigh of relief when he left her to shotgun a beer with his friends, a Russian basketball player named Dolohov and Hogwarts’ state wrestling champ, Fenrir.

She snuck glances at the back gate every time she heard the hinges creak, feeling more and more antsy as the night wore on. She wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, obviously, but she also wanted to be prepared in case…

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt as the gate pushed open again and she saw her cousin Sirius stride through, dressed like a wannabe Steven Tyler. He was accompanied by his usual lackeys, a tall gangly boy named Remus and a short mouth-breather named Peter.

And _him_. 

In theory, James Potter was not your typical high school girl’s fantasy. He was tall, yes, but a bit too skinny, like he never quite got enough to eat. His jet black hair was unruly, and just a touch too long. He wasn’t the smartest kid in class, didn’t play a sport or even an instrument, didn’t act in any of the school plays.

But there was something about him. Something that drew Narcissa’s eyes to him, making her blush when he caught her looking. Something that made him look at her in the few classes they’d shared over their years together at Hogwarts, just after she’d raise her hand to share her thoughts on Macbeth or give the correct answer in Algebra. His eyes on her made her feel funny in a way that Lucius’ eyes did not. 

Like he saw _her._

Not just her beautiful face, not just her perfect breasts or her blonde hair, not just her daddy’s money.

Her. 

The girl who _liked_ English class because she loved to read, because books allowed her to escape her seemingly perfect life that wasn’t actually so perfect. The girl who tried hard in all her classes because she liked doing things _right_. The girl who took shit about her oldest sister dropping out of high school when she’d had a nervous breakdown at 16, another product of their asshole dad’s excellent parenting skills.

He saw her now, their eyes meeting across the expanse of the lawn. It felt like time stopped for a moment, sounds muting, lights dimming, her focus narrowing down to those blue eyes of his behind the black frames of his glasses. He smiled at her.

Then Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the ice chest, and the moment was broken.

Thirty minutes and several cans of beer later, James and his friends had been roped into playing a game of “Seven Minutes in Heaven.” Narcissa wandered over to observe. Not because she _cared_ who James got paired up with, but because she was bored. _Obviously._

Sirius swigged his beer obnoxiously, almost falling over. “Alright, who’s going first?”

James grinned, letting his gaze drift to Narcissa before yanking it back to his friends. “I nominate the idiot to go first.”

Realizing James was referring to him, Sirius punched him in the arm. “Oi!”

“I don’t make the rules, Sirius.” Now James was laughing. Narcissa hadn’t had a thing to drink all night, but she felt tipsy. She couldn’t look away. 

“Alright, here we go,” Sirius said, leaning down to spin an empty wine bottle in some kind of bastardized hybrid of two kissing games. The bottle spun quickly, gradually slowing to rotate once, twice, three more times before coming to a stop...pointing directly at Narcissa.

“Oh, fucking gross!” Sirius yelled, as everyone else erupted in laughter. “She’s my cousin! I’m out!”

Narcissa laughed along with the others, enjoying his discomfort. But then she heard James’s voice say, “I’ll take his spot,” and suddenly nothing was funny anymore, because he was standing up and looking at her and tilting his head toward the pool house in an unspoken question.

She barely managed to get the word, “Okay,” out of her mouth before she was following him, heart racing and palms sweaty. 

They entered the darkened building, where watery reflections of light from the pool shifted over the walls and ceiling. 

“Narcissa,” James said softly, standing so close to her that she could smell him; laundry detergent and spearmint gum.

The door clicked shut behind them, and Narcissa turned the lock. 

Everyone else could find a different fucking heaven. This one was hers.


End file.
